


Gambling With a Genius

by H_E_A_R_T_H



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Mentions of Suicide, Updating tags as I go, depictions of depression and ptsd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-30 23:01:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21436120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/H_E_A_R_T_H/pseuds/H_E_A_R_T_H
Summary: After the Montella family is taken down and their territory is conquered, lone survivor Flora is left alone and with no one to turn to. That is, until she gambles with a certain Radio Demon.
Relationships: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Original Character(s), Charlie Magne/Vaggie
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I’d just like to state that Alastor is asexual in this. I feel the need to come back and state their relationship won’t be containing sexual feelings of lust, but it will be romantic. I hope that makes sense? Idk I’ve always wanted to self project in a fic and I finally found a canon character whose asexual and I’m pumped to be sharing this.

No one fears the dark, we fear what comes with it. The unseen threats that linger within the confines of the shadowy depths that corners provide, the natural noises of the night that teeter on the edge of someone creeping closer. It could be said that fire and the dark are relatively one and the same. No one fears a flame, most can find it in themselves to compliment the scarlet embers as they reach higher and linger between orange and red. People fear the threat of being burned.

Right now it's dark, the only light illuminating the depths of hell being the flames that reach over my home. It's too quiet for this rowdy street. I can't tell if that noise is someone approaching or the flames blazing higher. I fear so much at once, and like a child, I can't even say _what_ I'm afraid of. What threat lurks out there in the flames and shadows? What has killed my family and brought our empire toppling to the ground?

For the first time, I register that I am in fact, flammable. Very flammable, and currently on fire. My left leg is burnt up to my knee, a line of ash along the pavement marking where my calf used to be. In a daze, I roll my stub of a leg, putting the fire out.

This isn't the first time I've done this, and it won't be the last.

After the fire is out, my leg grows back in heaps of green vines. They curl and merge until my leg forms, fuzzy and resembling my old human form, though green with heaps of grass protruding where hair would. 

A voice at the back of my head tells me to _get the fuck up_ but I can't. I'm not injured anymore, there's nothing stopping me. But I can't.

I catch a glimpse of someone moving in a windowpane. I don't recognize them, they aren't apart of the family. Without moving my body, a flurry of vines erupt from my shoulder. They shoot through the flames, through the window and towards the figure. A shout splits through the air, then cuts off abruptly. It's followed by a hollow _thud_.

I drag my gaze away from the burning building. That makes me feel a little better, and I feel as though I can fall asleep right here and now. Someone will find me eventually, they'll finish me off. They have to.

"It's always such a shame when a riveting battle is followed by such a dull ending." A familiar voice breaks the silence of hell. Red and black shoes step into my line of sight, and the man sits down, folding his knees beneath him. I look up at the familiar gaze of the Radio Demon. "Such a brutal defeat you took, gardener."

"It's _Flora_." I respond in a dull tone, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know how I love _politics_!" That's a unique way to put this whole situation. Actually, now that I think about it, maybe turf wars between the mafia would count as politics in hell. "The killing was so heartfelt, so passionate! You people sure know how to put on a good show."

I hold back a grimace at that comment. "Leave this place," I manage to utter, voice barely above a whisper. "I want to die in peace."

"Oh, but you're in perfect health, my dear." Come's the Radio Demon's too true response. "Someone as valuable as yourself shouldn't give up on this drawn-out game of Russian Roulette that is the afterlife! There are so many exciting decisions left for you, so many decisions that'll leave you pointing the barrel at your skull. You've had great luck so far, so much so I'd dare say your luck would border immunity."

"I don't have time for your games." I drawl, rolling over to avoid his excitable gaze. 

"On the riveting subject that is gambling," The man begins to sidetrack, and I almost groan. He never fails to be predictable, everything is a deal with the Radio Demon. "How about a good-natured deal?"

"There is nothing good-natured about you." I counter sourly, "I want to die, that's it. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Then we'll have a good old fashioned life or death gamble!" The Radio Demon pipes up, "It's better than being left here to live, there's no one besides us left on this street. You got the honour of the final kill, congratulations!"

That catches my attention. I was left in the middle of the road, limbs removed and on fire, and no one felt the need to check if I was still alive? If that all _worked_?

When I don't respond, he continues. "A life for a life, whaddya say?" My interest piqued, I turn my body to the other side, looking up at the Radio Demon's eager, glowing eyes. "It's only fair, isn't it?"

Just like the dark and the fire around me, the Radio Demon's grin is an element I fear. Not because smiles are scary, but because behind this man's smile, there's malice. Permanent malice that lingers no matter what he says. There's always some sort of underlying message between each line when it comes to him. But instead of hiding like a child, I ignore the fear. I sit point-blank in front of the very thing that evokes said emotion and I stare right back at it.

"An interesting deal, Radio Demon." I utter, because seriously, what else do I have to lose. "I suppose you've got a deal."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flora begins to regret making the hasty decision that is not thoroughly talking through a deal with the Radio Demon himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to quickly mention a couple of things: One, this will be taking place before the events of the pilot episode. Eventually, and hopefully quite shortly, I'll merge this story into that. Two, before we get into this fic I'd like to warn people that Flora will be going through some mental health issues. I haven't yet planned that out, but the events of the first chapter will affect her for a large majority of this story. Read with caution if that concerns you or don't at all. If anything, I'll certainly leave trigger warnings at the beginning of each chapter and update the tags accordingly. Anyway, thanks for reading my tangent, and I'm so thankful for the number of hits I've gained in such a short amount of time! Hello you guys, hope you all like this!
> 
> Actually chapter related though: I tried to keep the description of Alastor's apartment to a minimum. If it's ever shown in the show I might come back and edit this, but yeah.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE MENTION

I don't trust the Radio Demon as far as I can throw him. In this scenario, I know I can't come close to throwing him whatsoever. He has amazing reflexes and impressive abilities hidden in his sleeve that can be shown at any given moment. In summary, I absolutely do not trust the Radio Demon.

I let him drag me to his home nonetheless. I expect something big, something just as extravagant as he, but it's as mundane as one gets. It blends into the background and the place is easy to miss. The Radio Demon drags me in and plops my lifeless form onto his couch.

"Well, I can't have you dying before I get to that deal, can I?" The man teases, hands on his hips. "So I think it would be best if you stayed here. At least, until you've completed our _deal_, that is."

"Just give me a name," I command with a cross of my arms. "I'll finish them quickly. Within the night, even."

"Why, I don't think I've ever met someone so eager to be sent on a suicide mission, my dear!" The Radio Demon's voice feigns shock, but I know better. "You won't need to be going anywhere. I thought that if you really wanted to die so badly, kill _me_!"

"You've got to be kidding," I state deadpan, but from the way his grin remains steady, I find he's serious. "How in the hell do you plan to kill me if you're dead, smartass?"

"You aren't the only sorry soul that I've managed to drag into a deal!" He enunciates enthusiastically, grin growing impossibly wider. "If you truly manage to kill me, I'll have someone off you lickity split. It'll be like an overcomplicated suicide pact!"

I choose not to mention that if I were to create a suicide pact, he'd be the last person I'd ask to join me. "What the fuck's in it for you?" I roll my eyes, "This is stupid."

"I'm so glad you asked, sweetheart!" The Radio Demon boops my nose before gracefully sitting beside me on his couch. "Killing me means that it needs to be done by your own hands, no one else. You'll be doing me oh so many favours, my dear."

I scowl back at him, "I knew you were sick, I _knew it_." His grin stares back at me, unwavering. "I wanted absolutely one thing. You kill people on a daily basis, why can't you just kill me?"

I hate the way the Radio Demon tilts his head, as if I've said something confusing. As if he doesn't understand, when I know he's just playing dumb. "Why, you're so much more than just _people_, my dear. You're one of the most powerful mortal souls hell has ever seen, you and I are one and the same!"

"We are nothing alike," I state, turning away from him. "What's to say I won't kill myself?"

There's a pause in the conversation, and I half expect the Radio Demon's smug chuckling to fill it. Instead, along with static, his voice carries in the same thickly cheerful tone. "If you truly knew how to kill yourself, you would have done so by now." I feel him rise from the couch, and shortly, a door closes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flora and Alastor start off the day with a nostalgic breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally made a design for Flora. I don't like her side profile at all but like it be like that. I might remake that eventually but that's all I got so far.

I wake up to the sound of sizzling bacon. I wish I could have that short moment of realization, a split second where I forget the events that transpired the day before. That doesn't happen. I remember everything as if I'd never closed my eyes to begin with, and I didn't dream. It feels like I only blinked.

I get up and I can see through the door of a nearby room that the Radio Demon is cooking. I can hear him humming, static lacing his voice. He peeks over his shoulder and we make eye contact. "Why, good morning, my dear!" He says excitedly, placing three strips of bacon on a nearby plate. He puts three more into the waiting pan. "I left a blanket beside you just in case you weren't cold-blooded, I certainly know my fair share of demons who are!"

I notice for the first time that there is, in fact, a red quilt folded neatly on the edge of the couch. "Aren't I supposed to be killing you?" I lay back down, burying my head into the area of the couch between the arm and the cushion. "What are you doing... What are _we_ doing?"

"Why, we're making the most of the afterlife while we can!" I hear his footsteps near me, the sound of a plate being placed on the coffee table nearby following shortly after. "And I, my dear friend, am going to ensure that you live - or not, considering we are in fact dead - to the best of your ability!"

I turn over on the couch, eyeing the breakfast. A pancake and three strips of bacon. "If you're trying to duplicate the breakfasts I used to make," I sit myself up, "You're missing the strawberries."

"Well, I just couldn't resist seeing your old _magic_ in action, now could I?" The Radio Demon sits on the arm of the chair, "Go on, then!"

A part of me doesn't want to give him the satisfaction. But then, I look up at his eager gaze, and I think of the past. The grey face is replaced by a pale boy, with curly red hair and a smaller smile. I hear music and laughter, I see _us_. Then I see strawberries, and before I know it, I'm bringing them to existence. Ten of them start growing out of my arm, and I pick them, placing each of them on the plate.

"Oh, I could never get tired of that spectacle." He states as he delicately takes up half of the strawberries and makes his way back to the kitchen. "But I do admit, you did it with much more of a flourish back in the day."

"If you're referring to the times I've been on television, you've only seen me fighting." I can't remember the last time I've used my ability publicly. It must have been years ago. "I do that to survive."

"And you're making strawberries to survive, too!" I hear him flip the bacon over, "Starvation is a very imminent threat, my dear!"

"I'm not going to die if I don't grow a couple of berries." I grumble, but he only hums. He shortly comes over to join me on the couch.

"Have you given up the ridiculous impulse to kill yourself yet?" The Radio Demon asks in a thoughtful voice, as if he'd asked something as simple as the weather.

"I witnessed the slaughter of my entire family," I tell him, as if he doesn't already know. I wouldn't be all too surprised if he took part in it. "It isn't an _impulse_. As long as they're dead, I want to join them."

"A wonder how you could call those folks family," I glare at the man as he takes a bite of a strawberry. "Those men could never be interested in something along the lines of that! Men like them enjoy money, drugs, and women."

I can't deny that he's right, so I try to steer the attention away from the obvious. "But I cared," My voice nearly cracks, "I knew some of them from before. Some of them knew my husband, too. Turns out he ended up here and died before I did."

"And a miracle he did, my dear!" The Radio Demon is quick to interject, "You have accomplished so much, _become_ so much! Instead of serving men and calling them family, you can easily have them grovelling at your feet, begging for mercy." His voice deepens near the end.  
  


"I didn't serve anybody, we served each other. There weren't many women in our family because we couldn't find many that could keep up with us." I can't think of many women off the top of my head. There were a couple I saw in passing, enough to be familiar, but I can't recall them ever being useful. Maybe wives or girlfriends, but nothing more. I don't say he's right even though he is. "We were a family."

He raises a brow at me, a look that tells me he doesn't believe me. He doesn't call out my bluff, instead continuing onto his pancake. I begin eating as well, pulling the plate onto my lap and letting the protective leaf over my mouth curl away. 

"So what if you've lost one family? Make another!" The Radio Demon pipes up, artificial laughter echoing around us. "You certainly had no issues replacing the living with the dead."

I pause at that, though I only shake my head. "That isn't the same. I was the one who died, not them." He doesn't look very convinced. "I can't replace people with more people."

"Then material objects seem like the way to go!"

"Stop acting as if you care!" I snap back, rising from my seat. "We haven't seen each other in years, don't expect to just come waltzing up to me as if we spoke yesterday!"

He stares back with that unwavering grin of his. I want to slap it off. "Calm down, my dear. Surely you must know that time is only a manmade concept. Our friendship exceeds such petty boundaries!"

"Leave me alone."

I turn to leave. I blink and suddenly the Radio Demon is in front of me, tall form bent so he can look me in my eyes more efficiently. "_You_ aren't leaving," He tells me in that dreadfully cheerful tone of his, "But _I_ am! If it isn't replacements you're looking for, and it isn't objects, it's entertainment! Something to pass the time, something you wish I could have given you all those years we lost contact!"

"That isn't the point."

"Of course it is!" He boops my nose, "Entertainment heals _all_ psychological dilemmas, my dear!"

With that, the Radio Demon disappears in a puff of red smoke.


End file.
